


The Snow

by stainhermouthred



Category: Captain America (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Red Room, idk how to tag it, it's happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5508527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stainhermouthred/pseuds/stainhermouthred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The snowflakes falling from the sky, dancing in the air to the music known only for them, creating a show for anyone who would spear a moment to watch.  There was sheer beauty in their dance that might have been compared to the delicate moves in ballet.</p><p>Natasha stood in front of the window, watching the show and wondering why even after all these years everything reminded her of Russia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_other_woman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_woman/gifts).



> Merry Christmas!

New York was beautiful in the winter.

The snowflakes falling from the sky, dancing in the air to the music known only for them, creating a show for anyone who would spear a moment to watch.  There was sheer beauty in their dance that might have been compared to the delicate moves in ballet.

Natasha stood in front of the window, watching the show and wondering why even after all these years everything reminded her of Russia.

The biting cold that was nothing compared to her homeland.

The snowflakes reminding her of her love of the ballet.

Things were different now compared to her time in Russia. She wasn’t owned by anyone and the order she got, she could turn down. The punishment wasn’t death. So many differences.

Those who has died now has mostly been evil, the amount of blood on her hands so little to what she did in her time as a Black Widow in Red Room. Where she had to murder innocents if they were in the way. And she didn’t want to. But orders were orders and she knew one thing: She wanted to live.

Survival.

Such a strong instinct it will push you to do unimaginable things.

Not everyone would understand that.

She knew, that if Clint had met someone like her now, there would be no mercy. She would be a monster in his eyes and there would be no redemption for her. She still has troubles understanding why exactly she was spared all those years back.

She was an asset.  That was true. But neither Fury nor Hill were delusional about her priorities. If everything went to hell, she would make sure she was the one standing. Whatever it would take.

 All these years in Russia and that is what she had learnt. That and how to share her soul with someone.

There was a man who was a shell. His mind programmed for missions and free of emotions that might have been a distraction. An American. An asset. The Winter Soldier. The weapon of the Soviets, so helpful in Cold War, he was valuable enough that they put him on ice every time he wasn’t needed simply because they couldn’t afford the distraction.

An American. Her teacher.

She was in her mid twenties when and ready to do anything to finish the Black Widow program when he came to the training room. He was tall and cold, his metal arm drawing respect and intimidating people. She wasn’t intimidated though, no. She looked in his eyes and saw they were almost empty and she was curious. Who was this man?

He had handsome face, a little scarred and brown hair. These empty eyes were dark and she wanted to see them when they come alive. She wasn’t stupid back then but she was daring. If he noticed her then he would mention her to supervisors. The chance of finishing the program would rise.

When he told he needed an assistance she ignored the girls and went to stand right in front  of him looking up with the smirk on her lips.

He was on top of her before she could blink, her back hurt and there was a metal squeezing her neck and she didn’t stop smirking. That’s when she saw what she wanted, the flash of life in his eyes. Maybe it was annoyance. Curiosity. Whatever it was, he wasn’t just a shell as she initially thought. And she wanted to know more about that man.

He learned her how to be invisible. How to talk. How to move so she wouldn’t bring attention to herself.

Red Room taught her killing and infiltrating

Winter Soldier taught her survival.

And companionship.

She smiled to herself as she thought about the nights where in the darkness they would touch each other with rush, in hurry to experience the pleasure of being with each other. It was always fast in fear of someone catching them and yet those sneaky moments when they would meet, in her room, in dirty motels, showers… everywhere they could.  The moments where his hands touched her body and his lips hovered over hers, where she was watching his once empty eyes filled with love for her. Those were the moments she cherished.

Winter Soldier. Her teacher. Her companion. Her lover.

He was her weakness in the eyes of her supervisors and she was his. Such a romantic phrasing. He was put into cryo and she got a reminder. To this day she didn’t know which one was worse.

She lost him there and they both thought the other was dead and maybe it was for the better. Living with regret wouldn’t help them and after she joined SHIELD she actually has done some good. And right now, he has done good too.

There was a difference between them. She was a little better at forgiving herself for wanting to keep living.

The warm arm slipped around her and she leaned back on the warm man behind her, his other hand resting on her hip, the coldness of metal biting into her skin. She sighed with content and felt his breath on her ear.

“What are you thinking about?” his voice was low , a little hoarse from sleep and she could hear him talk in that voice for the rest of her life.

“Ballet. Russia. You” she smiled a little, her hands resting on his.

“You can think about me in bed, Tasha” he said in w whisper, nuzzling her ear and moving to kiss her neck slowly, it wasn’t a seduction but a simple affection. The adoration.

They weren’t in Russia anymore and there wasn’t a threat of death for their love but the appreciation of every second they had together had stayed.

“I think about you all the time, James” she turned around and gave him the same smirk that at the time made him fall for her again and he kissed it off her lips, leading her to their bedroom, not being in a hurry. They had all the time in the world.

Now they were many things.

Friends. Partners. Lovers.

And if the end of the world came the next day, she’d make sure she was the last one standing. Not alone though, she’d have him by her side and that would be enough for her.


End file.
